


Snow Holes

by orphan_account



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mt. Shirogane | Mt. Silver, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:17:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8812948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Back when they were mentoring the future Solgaleo and Lunala, Ho-Oh made Lugia a promise. Eight centuries later and the memory of that cold winter morning is still eating at the proud beast.





	

Ho-Oh smiled tenderly, trilling softly against the faint wind skirmishing in and out of the hollow cave walls. It echoed back, almost beckoning the new snowfall in with a hearty laugh that sounded like home to the rainbow legend. The flurries didn’t relent, but only followed the change of wind with a flickering dance, some nestling into the hide of the bird.

 

The tiny creature by his side, fast asleep, hummed out a tune that was reminiscent of bell chimes. It exhaled a bout of heat that melted the nearby snow pile into a damp watery mess. To any casual observer it would appear the small one was in a coma because of how it barely moved, rarely made a sound. However, knowing better, the guardian fondly chuckled, reading the action of the stars twinkling as appreciation for the body heat it was sapping. The child of the stars, so vulnerable and so small, hummed once more, this time letting something close to a whine leak into its voice.

 

A maroon wing extended from Ho-Oh, draping over the form smaller than the bird’s own beak. It effectively blocked out the cold and snowflakes, while also draping the Cosmoem into darkness blacker than night. This time there was no response, but there didn’t need to be, the silence said enough. Fluffing out his feathers to expel steam, the bird watched on, talons clicking gently against the stone as they adjusted.

 

In the distance, a laugh interrupted the serene grace of the act, grabbing at Ho-Oh’s attention. The snow made it incredibly hard to see, but he could faintly make out the outline of his mate, spiked protrusions giving away his identity. Beside him glowed a tiny shape, giggling with content at the attention being given to her. The fluffy form wouldn’t stop moving, zipping in and out of the beast’s legs and laughing louder when the legend couldn’t keep up.

 

“I’ve never seen him like this, it’s fascinating,” Commented a silky voice from above the mouth of the cave. The bird didn’t have to look up before a winding green mane landed beside him with a whoosh, kicking up a blanket of snow that barely missed covering the immobile legend. The bird hissed out a warning, but didn’t move otherwise.

 

“Around children he loses the professional approach. I find it adorable.” The dragon’s whiskers fluttered as he rumbled, sinking into the snow when he tried taking a step forward to meet his friend. The breath pouring out from between his powerful jaws evaporated as he moved.

 

A long serpentine tongue flicked in and out, meeting the bird’s cheek and wiping it clear of the residue that lingered. Ho-Oh shivered against the texture, hitting the dragon back with a brisk tap of his wing. Both of them exchanged a smile, the familiarity lingering. There was an unspoken question to move closer that Ho-Oh acknowledged, and Rayquaza didn’t waste a second before circling the phoenix, dressing him with green.

 

The two regarded the twirling background shapes for a few minutes, watching the silver wyvern coax the Cosmog into a snow hole he had dug out with his talons. The gas body of the tiny thing seemed to pulse with stress, but it didn’t last long as the guardian noticed the change in stance. He walked a few steps away and then dove forward with the same precise movements he would use when diving underwater. The thick snow coat was deep enough to cover his body, with the exception of his finned tail and back spikes, making it seem like he had never existed. 

 

Seeing the big legend goof off made the Cosmog forget any anxiety about the snow, and she followed suite by digging her own hole and trying to find the legend she adored so much. The white flakes covered her almost instantly, and Ho-Oh couldn’t help but tense up when she left his sight. Rayquaza eased him back down with a claw, careful not to touch the bird’s wing and disturb the sleeping sibling that rested there.

 

A flash of white and Lugia erupted, spinning as the Cosmog started chasing his tail with glee, skittering over the snow like a Sneasel. Her enthusiasm seemed to never quit, and Ho-Oh could see Lugia beginning to tire out. He gave his counterpart a break by calling out with a chirp loud enough to reach their ears. Both figures perked up, and the tiny ball of space grinned when she recognized the green dragon that now resided there. Lugia wearily grinned, lumbering forward through the snow and egging on his apprentice with a nudge of his muzzle.

 

The Cosmog reached the two first, greeting Rayquaza with a squeal that turned strained when he blew air at her. She scurried in the direction of Ho-Oh and butted her tiny head against his wing until he lifted it to reveal her brother. Eyes large, she stared at his sleeping form for a moment before joining his side, nuzzling into Ho-Oh’s white stomach as she tried to heat herself up. After he was sure they were comfortable he lowered the coloured wing back down, concealing them both.

 

“She’s small, but she’s got a lot of energy,” Lugia panted, his blue tongue making itself visible as he fought to suck in air.

 

“I’m just happy they feel comfortable enough to show us that side. It took them months to even find the will to move from their nest when we first found them,” Ho-Oh reminded, plucking a loose silver feather from his mate when his long neck fell within reach. Lugia thanked him with a pat, and nodded at Rayquaza, who lifted himself from Ho-Oh out of respect. Lugia replaced the scaled hide with his own, his larger body eclipsing Ho-Oh’s own from sight and camouflaging them from sight.

 

Rayquaza huffed out cold air. “So he’s evolved, a bit sudden if you ask me.”

 

“Almost gave me a heart attack at first,” The rainbow legend recounted, “I thought we’d done something wrong before Lugia reminded me that they evolved. Dialga told us that they would sleep for some time after it happened, and he seems to be correct.”

 

“It’s normal for them to act comatose and dead to the world for months?”

 

“Years,” Ho-Oh stressed, “Years of sleeping and gathering up enough energy to evolve. That’s why so little Cosmog even make it to this stage before they die off. Alola isn’t exactly kind to them, concerning predators and all.”

 

Rayquaza’s scaled eyebrows rose up, but he didn’t question further. His flowing body settled down and the end of his tail swiped away a cold patch where snow was collecting.

 

“I’m almost a bit sad about it,” Lugia noted, his head falling down onto an elevated patch of stone where a few blades of grass were poking through.

 

Ho-Oh turned to give him a empathetic look as he continued. “I always wanted to show the both of them the wonders of snow after we were sure they wouldn’t freeze to death. You know, since Alola doesn’t get some if not any snow. I mean, I’m grateful I could show at least one of them, but I feel like it should have been all of us out there. It’s not going to be the same when they’re adults.” 

 

“One day Lulu.” Ho-Oh rested his head on Lugia’s form, slowing his breaths and letting his inner furnace burn itself out. Lugia let a small cry escape, but eased his sharp eyes and swiped his end fins against Rayquaza to silently ask him to relax as well. “You’ll get to show your expert snow digging skills to whatever unfortunate babe we happen to pick up along the way.”

 

The wyvern noticeably relaxed when humour creeped into his counterpart’s voice, as did Rayquaza after he heard the other dragon exhale. Even though it was freezing outside and the snow didn’t seem to want to let up, Lugia felt warmer than ever. Maybe it was partly because in his embrace was a fire bird oozing heat, but he liked to believe the promise of them looking after youth again contributed a bit too.

 

____

 

The tiny reddish bird let out a shocked honk as her sister met her with a talon of snow kicked up from below. Her tiny flames simmered the snow almost instantly, and she was quick to duck to avoid the water that would inevitably follow. She barreled her sister over in revenge, hearing how the blue bird cried out in pain from her wing being stepped on the wrong way.

 

“It’s hurts! It hurts! Lugia!” Though muffled by the snow, the cries were loud enough to get the large sea guardian to raise his head, sleep blurring the edges of his eyes. The firebird saw the action and removed herself with a well timed flap that lifted her off the ground. She glided a few inches before she lost control and skidded into a Apricorn bush that rained down pink berries on her head.

 

The two wrestled a bit more, their tinier younger brother soon growing intrigued and trying to make his way over. His comically sized feet that grew too fast for him wouldn’t let him keep up, and he fell forward enough to sink down into the snow. Electrical shocks fired up in panic as he struggled to find the surface of the snow crater and escape the suffocating hold the snow had on him. He was drowning, drowning-

 

In the nick of time a flash of gold telekenesis grabbed his stubby little tail feathers and hoisted him up, gracing him with the sight of the sun. He gasped for air, little chest working overtime as he fought back the remaining fear.

 

“Don’t go under the snow Zapdos, I can’t see you when you do.” Zapdos’ little head snapped up fast enough to let little shocks rain down around him. His mentor remained where he was when he last saw him, his large scarred form shimmering in the reflected light.

 

“But-“ Zapdos looked back at his sisters, which were doing the same thing. Moltres in particular was so far under the only indication she was there was her flames, which melted all of the snow on top quickly. “They’re doing it too!”

 

“Zapdos.” The bird said nothing, knowing that Lugia would not tolerate any more backtalk. Instead, he jumped forward through the snow until he was at the entrance of Silver Rock Isle’s cave and in front of the wyvern.

 

Lugia looked down, eyes burning as he regarded the male with a strange mix of contempt and happiness. Ruby red eyes met him, swirling with emotion. An unknown presence made itself known by his side, ghost-like talons gripping his heart tightly. He willed himself not to cry and straightened his back.

 

“Zapdos, go keep Moltres company.”

 

“Don’t you wanna dig snow holes with us?” The yellow bird crooned, his head tilting to the side and becoming the image of one much older than him.

 

“No. I have no time for games. Now hurry along, I’m busy.” Lugia dismissed harshly, noticing how the bird’s chirpy look fell and his ambition to continue the game left almost immediately. Instead of joining his sisters he settled down inside the cave a few lengths away from Lugia. 

 

The guardian felt something prick his heart, and he relented on his decision to distance himself by brushing his tail fin against the electric bird. Immediately the small form tensed, and he made it perfectly clear by his squawk that he cared not for Lugia at the moment.

 

His stomach churned, and he wanted nothing more to apologize. At the same time, his bitterness accepted it as rejected, and something he well earned. He tried to push the thoughts back and watch the two girls, but he felt sick, really sick. Something wasn’t right, it was too empty beside him.

 

A snowflake landed on his muzzle, signalling the start of snowfall. For once he didn’t grumble, but let out the much more appreciative sigh as he worked out the reason why. Maybe if he squinted enough to blur his surroundings he might be able to delude himself that the large red bird showing her sister how to dig was his mate, and the tiny blue bird their own child. Maybe he might be able to forget the lingering promise that should have come true, and that his mate should be beside him right now, laughing as their children enjoyed their very first snowfall.


End file.
